Alone In A Crowd
by wolfblood16
Summary: Jack's point of view on Elizabeth and Will, though more about Lizzie than the eunich. One shot. Contains CotBP scenes, DMC spoilers and one AWE guess.


A/N: I don't own a thing. If I did, I'd be rich...and I'm not. So don't sue me, unless you want to come out of the suit worse for wears than you were before. 

Will wasn't right for Elizabeth. I'd known this from the moment I learned he had a deep love for her. I felt sorry for the lad, since I had a gut feeling that she didn't love him the way he thought she loved him. I never ignore my gut feelings. They can save your life, you know.

Elizabeth, bless her soul, was more of the freedom type, rather than the settle-down-and-care-for-millions-of-screaming-babies type. Neither was I, really, so I knew how she felt.

Will, on the other hand, seemed to be the fathering type. He was caring, strong, (less so than me, of course), and smart. He stood up for me when no one else would, though I didn't really care. I could've gotten myself out of it if needed. He just didn't know which end was up when it came to love. I don't blame him. He's hasn't had much experiance, being stuck in that pitiful port with the beauty of Elizabeth to get drunk off of.

I don't know if either Elizabeth or Will knew what I thought of them personally, but I knew that each knew what I thought of the other. The little giddy grins I slipped when I was around Elizabeth surely were a knock on Will's chamber door, but he didn't say anything. Ever. That suprised me, as she was HIS bonnie lass, dolly bell, wife-to-be. He would die for her, yet he wouldn't put down the competition. That fact only encouraged me.

When I was stuck on that God-forsaken island with no less than Lizzie herself, I decided I'd get comfortable in her company. What harm could it do? For all I knew, we'd die on that sandy beach, with the crystal clear tides coming in and floating out peacefully day after day. So, I grabbed us a couple of bottles of me prized/abandoned rum stock from the left-overs the dear Rum Runners never had a chance to collect and got that party started.

Lets just say Elizabeth wasn't thrilled at first.

Once she'd swallowed nigh enough to get a little sozzled, she was a lot friendlier, and we were able to have a decent conversation. By decent, I mean one where she didn't yell at me for this or that mishap. Of course, this meant she was never really sure of what she was saying, so I counted every compliment she gave me as nothing. Later, I didn't know if I should've done that, or if I should have believed her drunken comments.

It took a long while for her to warm up to me, but slowly she came about. I guess it was after I tried to get her to "persuade me" that I noticed the way her eyes when she spoke to me. Thats when I started to hear the crew talking. The laughs and jeers, then the cynical attempts of Norrington to make her feel guilty for liking me. I heard him more often than the rest of the crew, and the same feeling came over me every time: The feeling that made me want to cut him into tiny pieces and give him to the Kraken as a nasty-tasting snack.

"Oh, don't be absurd! I trust him is all," Elizabeth once protested, and I grinned. Is that really all, Lizzie? I asked her in my mind, but I kept on listening. "So you've never wondered how your latest fiance ended up on the Flying Dutchman in the first place?" Norrington inquired, and a chill went down my spine. Now she'll gut me for sure, I assumed, but she mearly flipped out my compass and watched the needle spin. Where it went, I'm not sure, for I spotted something shiny off yonder, and decided to take a gander at it through me eyeglass, to see if it was something of worth. It wasn't, of course, and when I turned back to study her, she looked as if someone had stolen her kitten.

My next attempt to see what she thought of me came when she was sitting on the steps, looking as distraught as ever.

"My tremendous intuitive sense of the female creature informs me that you are troubled," I speculated.

"I just thought I'd be married by now. I'm so ready to be married," She said, and though slightly shocked by her statement, I handed her my rum, which she quickly began to drink.

"You know," I coughed slightly as I scooted closer to her. "Lizzie, I am captain of a ship, and being captain of a ship, I could, infact, perform a marr-i-auge, right here, right on this deck, right," I brought my face closer to hers. "Now," I whispered suggestively.

She looked disgusted, shoved the rum back at me and quickly declined. "Why not?" I asked. "We are very much alike y'know. You and I, I and you, us," I pointed out. "Oh, except for a sense of honor and decency and-and a moral center," She paused. "And personal hygene." She sneered as she looked me over. I grinned.

"Trifals. You will come over to my side, I know it," I grinned. "You seem very certain," She grumbled. "One word, love. Curiosity. You long for freedom. You long to do what you want to do because you want it. To act on a selfish impulse. You want to see what its like. One day you won't be able to resist," I persuaded her, but she just glared at me.

"Why doesn't your compass work?" She asked, a question I thought off subject at the time. "My compass works fine," I protested, and she continued. "Because you and I are alike. And there will come a moment when you'll have the chance to show it. To do the right thing," She said softly. "I love those moments. I like to wave at them as they pass by," I joked, yet she was undeterred. "You'll have the chance to do something...something courageous. And when you do, you'll discover something. That you're a good man," She complimented me, and I smirked. "All evidence to the contrary," I denied it. "Oh, I have faith in you. Want to know why?" She asked, turning to face me. She was getting dangerously close, so I stared out over the water to keep anything from stirring down below. "Do tell, dearie," I coaxed her on.

"Curiosity," She whispered, using my word against me, and I squinted at her, wondering just what she was going to say. Thats when I noticed just how close she was, staring up at me through her lashes with those chocolate eyes. Irresistable, really, but I held myself back. "You're going to want it. A chance to be admired and gain the rewards that follow. You won't be able to resist," She continued. I stared sideways at her luscious lips, unsure whether she wanted me to gather her in me arms or not. So I just stood there, looking like a pitiful stray puppy, wanting an owner. "You're goint to want to know," She paused, her lips nearly coming in contact with mine. "What it tastes like," She finished, and my eyes widened. "I do want to know what it tastes like," I decided, turning to face her.

She said something about putting her in a position that would compromise her honor, but I didn't listen. I was too busy being drowned in lust, or love, or whatever it was I felt. I brushed my fingers softly against her cheek, then ran it through her tawny, wind-swept hair. Just before I took my prize, I caught sight of the black spot forming smack-dab in the middle of my right hand, which completely killed the romantic mood, and I took a step back and curled my hand into a fist around the dreaded spot.

Davy Jones has horrible timing, if you ask me.

As does Gibbs, who yelled that land had been spotted. I immediately felt an ache in me to be reunited with my beloved jar of dirt.

So, after I'd blown up bits and pieces of the Kraken, I was more than happy to accept Lizzie's kiss, (even slip in the tongue). She was an excellent kisser, and I could have gone on kissing her for eternity. And I would have, had the cold reality not grabbed me about the wrist.

Literally.

She pulled away, and I still tasted the sweetness of her lips. I was hurt by her betrayal, but couldn't help the smile that remained on my lips. "I'm not sorry," She whispered, though she looked miserable. Liar, I thought to myself. I was miserable myself, yet I was unable to hate the girl. "Pirate," I growled quietly.

As she scuttled off and dropped into the longboat, I felt an aching in me chest. The girl I'd loved, not lusted, had left me for dead. Screwy world, innit? So, thinking I had nothing else to lose, I pulled my hand from the shackle and engaged in battle with Davy's terrible beasty.

I'm not really sure where I am now. I'm in purgatory, I s'pose, wiff these odd and boring pirates who wouldn't know what love was if it pulled theirs hats over their eyes and sat on their noses. Alone in a crowd of people, doomed to last out an eternity or so in this hell hole.

God, I miss Lizzie.


End file.
